Alfred felt the justness of this accusation. He knew Samah was right, knew the flaw to be in himself, knew he was unworthy to stand here, to be among his people. He wanted desperately to tell them all he knew, to fling himself prostrate at their feet, to hide beneath the hems of their white robes.
Hide. Yes, that’s what I’d be doing. Hide from myself. Hide from the dog. Hide from despair. Hide from hope . . .
He sighed. “I trust you, Samah, members of the Council. It’s myself that I don’t trust. Is it wrong to refuse to answer questions to which I don’t know the answer?”
“Sharing information, sharing your speculations, might benefit us all.”
“Perhaps,” said Alfred. “Or perhaps not. I must be the judge.”
“Samah,” Orla said gently, “this arguing is pointless. As you said, we must make allowances.”
If Samah had been a mensch king, he would have ordered his son to take Alfred and wring the information out of him. And it seemed, for a moment, as if the Councillor was regretting he wasn’t such a king. His hand clenched in frustration, his brow furrowed. But he mastered himself, continued on.
“I am going to ask you a question and I trust you will find it in your heart to answer.”
“If I can do so, I will,” Alfred replied humbly.
“We have urgent need to contact our brethren in the other three worlds. Is such contact possible?”
Alfred looked up, amazed. “But, I thought you understood! You have no brethren in the other worlds! That is,” he added, shuddering, ‘”unless you count the necromancers on Abarrach.”
“Even these necromancers, as you term them, are Sartan,” said Samah. “If they have fallen into evil, all the more reason to try to reach them. And you yourself have admitted that you have not traveled to Pryan. You don’t know for certain that our people are no longer on the world.”
“But I have talked to one who has been there,” Alfred protested. “He found a Sartan city, but no trace of any Sartan. Only terrible beings, that we created—”
“And where did you get this information?” Samah thundered. “From a Patryn! I see his image in your mind! And you would have us believe it?”
Alfred shrank into himself. “He would have no reason to
“He would have every reason! He and this lord who plans to conquer and enslave us!” Samah fell silent, glaring at Alfred. “Now, answer my question!”
“Yes, Councillor. I suppose you could go through Death’s Gate.” Alfred wasn’t being very helpful, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“And alert this Patryn tyrant to our presence. No, not yet. We are not strong enough to face him.”
“And yet,” said Orla, “we may not have any choice. Tell Alfred the rest.”
“We must trust him,” said Samah bitterly, “although he does not trust us.”
Alfred flushed, stared down at his shoes.
“After the Sundering came a time of chaos. It was a dreadful time,” Samah said, frowning. “We knew there would be suffering and loss of life. We regretted it, but we believed that the greater good to come would make up for it.”
“That is the excuse of all who wage war,” said Alfred in a low voice.
Samah paled in anger.
Orla intervened. “What you say is true, Brother. And there were those who argued against it.”
“But what is done is done and that time is long past,” Samah said in stern tones, seeing several of the Council members shift restlessly in their seats. “The magical forces we unleashed proved far more destructive than we had anticipated. We found, too late, that we could not bring them under control. Many of our people sacrificed their own lives in an attempt to stop the holocaust that swept over the world. To no avail. We could only watch in helpless horror and, when all was ended, do what we could to save those who had managed to survive.
“The creation of the four worlds was successful, as was the imprisonment of our enemies. We took the mensch and brought them to havens of peace and safety. Such a world was Chelestra.